The Old Trunk
by Jennifer DeNaughel
Summary: Itching for a hunt, but with no leads in sight, the boys head to the mountains of Oregon to look up an old friend of their father's who has an old trunk that John Winchester left behind. What they find in that trunk leads them to the truth about a legendary creature...


_Moonlight Motel, Crescent City, California_

The incessant hum of the motel refrigerator, the random clunk of the half-functioning heater, a string of colorful words from a couple fighting in the parking lot, the sound of water moving through prehistoric pipes...it all blended together like some kind of bizarre symphony.

Dean sat up in bed glancing at the muted red numbers of the clock. It was barely after midnight. It seemed like he had been lying there, staring at the ceiling for hours, a crushing weight on his chest.

Sam mumbled something in his sleep. His little brother…he'd spent most of his life trying to protect him. Now he was a full grown man. He'd been through so much in the years they had been on the road together. Dean could lay the blame at the feet of John Winchester until the end of time, but ultimately it was he who felt responsible. For all of it…

If he had walked away and left Sam to his life at Stanford, maybe things would have worked out differently. Jessica might have been saved; she and Sam would be married with two-point-two kids and a dog.

Getting up from the bed Dean walked into the bathroom. The cracked, chipped mirror further amplified his feeling of being damaged goods. The weariness in his eyes, the stubble of his beard, he felt so much older than his years. Leaning over the sink he turned on the faucet and splashed water over his face.

Sam rolled over and blinked groggily looking for his brother, but the other bed was empty. He heard the sound of running water and saw the light coming from under the bathroom door.

"Dean, are you okay?" he asked, sitting up on the edge of his bed.

"Fine," Dean replied as he opened the bathroom door and crossed the floor to the refrigerator. Pulling out two bottles of beer, he handed one to Sam. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." He reached over and turned on the lamp above his bed.

"No, it's okay," Sam blinked at the sudden brightness, sleepily accepting the beer while running his fingers through his long brown hair. "I was having a nightmare anyway."

"So that's why you were mumbling."

"I guess so."

"What did you dream about?"

"We were chasing something through the woods in the snow and then it started chasing us."

"Story of our lives," Dean said raising an eyebrow as he took a drink of his beer.

"I take it you couldn't sleep at all."

"Restless I guess…I wish we could get a lead on a job. It's been two weeks, nothing."

"We could head north and check out that haunted cannery Zachary and Josh called us about."

"Mmmm yeah, dead fish and ghosts…no thank you," Dean scowled.

"Okay then, we can look up that old friend of Dad's, the Oregon forest ranger…Jacob Langley. He said he had an old trunk Dad left with him. We should go pick it up and see what's in it. Could be something important."

Dean nodded, "We're this close, might as well. I'll call him in the morning."

"You need some sleep," Sam said taking his brother's empty beer bottle from him tossing it, and his own, in the trash can between their beds. "You want me to knock you out cold?" he asked grinning.

"No, thanks…I think I can manage now," Dean said as he fell back on the too-flat pillows and the lumpy mattress and closed his eyes.

Sam shut off the lamp and got back into bed. He could tell that Dean was struggling with something, but he didn't know what. He knew his brother well enough to know that pushing him to talk about what was going on in his head was pointless. Frowning, Sam closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep listening to the thumping of the heater as it finally kicked on.

_Siskiyou National Forest, Rogue River Area, Oregon_

The snow was coming down harder as Dean followed the narrow ribbon of asphalt through the heavy forest looking for the mountain road that would lead to the ranger station and the trail to Jacob's cabin. Sam was checking his phone for signal and to see if GPS would tell him where they were.

"Are you sure this is the right road?" Dean asked.

"Yes, I'm sure…the ranger station should be about five miles further."

"Isn't it a little early in the year for snow?"

"Apparently not," Sam smirked.

The road curved and started to climb and Dean gave the Impala a little gas. Her tires slipped a little but she kept climbing. "Easy, Baby…we can do this," he urged and pressed down on the accelerator. Just as the road leveled out again there was a flash of movement in the shadow of the trees and Dean slammed on the brakes.

"Son of a bitch!" he shouted as the Impala slid sideways and the passenger side wheels left the pavement.

Sam yelled something as he gripped the dash.

Dean sat behind the wheel staring blankly up into the trees trying to grasp what he saw. It was gone.

"You okay, Dean?"

Dean kept staring not responding.

"Dean!" Sam said louder and grabbed his brother's arm.

"Wh-What…did you see that?" Dean said his voice tinged with confusion and fear mixed with excitement.

"See what?" Sam asked, "I didn't see anything but a mountainside coming at me."

"There was something big…really big…and hairy," Dean said as he pushed open his door and got out of the car. "It ran up through those trees."

"What ran, I didn't see anything," Sam said his forehead creased slightly. He stepped out of the car and into a small spring hidden in the snow. "Son of a bitch," he muttered as his shoes quickly filled with water. "Dean…"

Dean was already climbing up the embankment into the trees scanning the ground for evidence of what he had seen. He wasn't crazy…something was there he could feel it watching him.

"Dean, what are you doing?"

"Sam, I'm telling you…I saw it…"

"Dean, come on. Whatever it was it is probably long gone by now and my feet are freezing."

Dean turned to go back down to the car when he saw it. Reaching up he pulled a clump of dark brown hair from a branch. It smelled like wet dog crossed with burnt wood. He looked down and there in the snow was a footprint that dwarfed the size of his own just six inches away from it.

"Holy…" he said as he bent down.

"What did you find?" Sam asked.

"You're not going to believe this…"

"Look who you're talking to," Sam said, raising an eyebrow as he climbed up toward his brother. "What is it?"

Dean gave him a huge wide grin as he handed him the clump of hair and pointed down at the footprint. "You tell me."

Sam stared at the hair and the print, "No way, Dean. There has to be another explanation."

"Well, unless we have another giant bi-polar Teddy Bear on our hands…this is the real deal. We have ourselves a Sasquatch."

Sam shook his head, "We need to reach Jacob's cabin before dark and this storm is getting worse."

Dean took another look up through the trees. It was there…he could feel it.

"Dean, come on," Sam said, working his way back down to the Impala.

It took some pushing to get Baby out of the snow and back onto the road, but half an hour later they pulled up to the ranger station. Grabbing their bags, they started up the trail to Jacob's cabin. It was already dark by the time they stepped onto the porch and stomped the snow off their shoes.

Sam couldn't feel his feet anymore as he pounded on the door.

Jacob Langley opened it and smiled with relief. "You made it, I was getting worried," he said as he stepped back so the boys could enter the small kitchen slash living area of the cabin. "This storm wasn't supposed to hit us until the weekend, I guess it came early."

"We would have been here sooner but we had a little accident," Sam said as he sat down in front of the roaring fire and peeled off his wet shoes and socks.

"Accident?" Jacob asked.

Dean nodded and looked at Sam then Jacob, "I saw something. It started to cross the road then turned and ran back into the woods."

"You don't know what it was?"

"He thinks it was a Bigfoot," Sam said half teasingly although he had no explanation for what his brother had seen either. Or for the hair and the footprint in the fresh snow.

Dean glared at him, clearly annoyed. "What was it then, smart ass?"

"No idea," Sam laughed.

"I'm telling you it had to be a Sasquatch," Dean said adamantly.

Jacob nodded slowly as he poured coffee into cups and handed one to each of the boys. "There have been reported sightings in this area going back hundreds of years. And countless stories from Native American lore as well.

Dean smiled and gave his brother a look and Sam shrugged.

"Dad always maintained that Bigfoot was a hoax, we had no reason to believe otherwise until today," Dean said.

"Well, if this storm lets up maybe we can go back and take a look in the area where you saw it," Jacob said as he sat down in his chair.

Sam rubbed his feet and wiggled his toes in front of the fire. He was finally starting to get feeling back in them.

"If it doesn't let up we may be here for awhile. So where is this trunk our Dad left with you?" Dean asked.

"Right over there in the corner," Jacob pointed.

"Do you mind?" Dean looked at the ranger questioningly.

"No, go right ahead. It's a heavy son of a bitch."

Sam slipped on a pair of socks and his dry boots then helped Dean pick up the trunk and carry it closer to the fire. It only took a few minutes and a lock pick and it was open.

"What the Hell?" Dean asked as they looked at the contents.

Sam let the lid fall back and reached in to pick up a very old and very dusty box with some sort of symbols on it.

"What are you waiting for? Open it," Dean urged.

One of the two hinges was broken so the top hung awkwardly. Inside was what appeared to be a crudely carved wooden whistle of some sort. Dean picked it up and blew on it but no sound came out.

"Ancient dog whistle?" Dean asked with a shrug.

"Somehow I doubt it," Sam rolled his eyes and smiled.

"What is that?" Jacob asked pointing to a small leather pouch.

Sam picked it up and dumped the contents onto the table as he sat down and moved the items around. There were smooth pebbles, odd shaped pieces of wood and small animal bones. "What the Hell?"

"No idea," Dean said, "Why would Dad leave all this stuff here?"

The other items in the trunk included old books and several knives, all with hand- carved wood handles.

"I guess we will have to take all this stuff back to the Bunker and do some research to figure out what it all is," Sam said.

"Well, nobody is going anywhere until this storm is over," Jacob said, "You guys hungry?"

"Starving," Dean said.

Two hours later, Jacob had gone up to bed in the loft and Sam was crashed out on the floor by the fire in a sleeping bag. Dean needed air and stepped out onto the porch to watch the snowflakes falling from the black sky. There was at least a foot of snow on the ground already and still piling up.

Shoving his hands in his pocket his fingers closed around the odd whistle. He pulled it out and blew on it again. Not a sound came from it, but there was an eerie answering cry from something in the woods just beyond the reach of light streaming from the windows of the cabin.

"What the…" Dean whispered and blew it again. The cry came again and this time it was closer.

Sam came out a few minutes later fully dressed with gun in hand. "What was that?" he asked handing his brother one flashlight before turning his own on.

"Good question," Dean said putting the whistle in his pocket. He pulled his own gun out of the back of his jeans and stepped off the porch into the snow with Sam close behind.

Walking into the woods, their lights barely penetrated the darkness and the falling snow. It wasn't long before they were completely turned around. Instead of working their way back to where they thought the cabin was, they ended up deeper in the woods.

"Dean, this is not good," Sam said.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," Dean snapped back.

"We need to get back to the cabin."

"I know, Sam. We will be fine…just…" he stopped speaking his eyes getting huge.

"What is it?" Sam asked and turned to see a very large and dark figure standing next to a tree just ten feet away. "Holy…Dean…"

"Sam, run," Dean yelled and the brothers bolted, praying they were heading in the right direction. They ran for what seemed like forever before Dean realized that Sam was no longer behind him. "Sam!" he called out running back in the direction he had come. "Dammit, Sam…where are you?"

"Dean, I'm okay," Sam said as Dean nearly stumbled over him.

"What happened?"

"I don't know. I tripped and fell and it stood there looking down at me and then it was just gone."

Dean helped his brother to his feet checking him over to make sure he was in one piece. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Dean…it didn't hurt me."

"Sam…Dean," Jacob called out as he emerged from the darkness with a lantern.

"Boy are we glad to see you," Dean said.

"What the hell are you guys doing out here?"

"Oh just getting lost. Oh…and we ran into Bigfoot," Dean replied.

Jacob did not look surprised at all. He laughed and shook his head. "And you call yourselves hunters."

"Yeah…save it okay," Dean gave the ranger a sarcastic smile.

"Lead the way," Sam said brushing the snow from his jeans. He was freezing.

They followed Jacob through the blizzard and both breathed a sigh of relief when the light from the cabin windows came into view.

Dean stopped and looked back toward the tree line. He could just make out the figure standing there watching them. It just wanted to be left alone. It didn't want to hurt anyone.

"At least now we know you aren't a hoax." In that moment he realized that their Dad had to have known the truth. He looked down and nodded then took the clump of hair from his pocket. Setting it on fire he watched it burn before dropping it in the snow. "Your secret is safe with us," he whispered then turned and walked up the steps to the porch.

Dean opened the trunk of the Impala. Sam loaded the items from the old trunk. Picking up the box with the broken hinge, Dean placed the whistle back inside and closed it. He smiled.

"Dean?" Sam asked watching his brother.

"Don't you think it is kind of ironic that we have witnessed something that so many people, including us, believed was a hoax? I mean we could have killed it and proved once and for all that Bigfoot is real."

"But we didn't," Sam said.

Dean looked up at his brother and smirked, "Na, it would be like killing a family member."

"Ha ha," Sam shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"What? It's true…big and hairy…"

"Shut up."

"Okay let's hit the road, Sasquatch," Dean laughed and slid behind the wheel of the Impala.

Sam tossed his bag in the back seat and got in as the engine roared to life. Glancing over at his brother he smiled, "Jerk."

"Bitch," Dean replied.


End file.
